Womb Bomb Rah Voila
waking at odd hours
is it light
twilight of night
falling asleep on a whims
the tinsel blinks the midnight
is it noon my eyes won't tell
as aroused from slumber
the spirit chants the glory
no a voice hum must be morning
the smell of coffee I do not want to focus
my mind shush the aroma to travel further
i am a child in the body of an old lady feeding the cats
the dog in need of a pee I age fast to tender the necessity
and a flag I will not wave as I run out of fabric trying to keep you warm in wars
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